kept his voice low, their conversation interspersed by the sporadic thud of darts into a board and occasional applause. ‘So you’d never contemplate marrying anyone else? I’m not hinting or anything!’ he hastened to add with a laugh. ‘I’m just interested to know, being in a similar position. Even if you were free—’
‘Never,’ she said adamantly. ‘Once bitten and all that.’
Stricken by bitter disappointment, Niall wondered if this showed. ‘Still, it can’t feel good knowing you’re tied to somebody, yet not married in the real sense.’
‘Marriage isn’t for me,’ she said with certainty.
It hadn’t been for him a couple of weeks ago. How swiftly could one’s life change. Desperate, utterly consumed by his need to possess her one way or another, he exclaimed, ‘Tell you what! How about coming out with me just as a friend then? We both know where we stand. I can’t see it’d do any harm and we like each other’s company – least I think we do,’ he ended with an embarrassed laugh.
She hesitated, probing his eyes warily, before replying, ‘I suppose so …’
‘Next week?’ Having rationed himself to one night out per week, it might look suspicious to Nora if he were to start making regular outings again. ‘What day?’ He half expected another excuse.
But no. ‘I’ve got next Monday evening off,’ she told him. ‘In fact every Monday evening from now on ’cause they’re changed my hours.’
Niall’s heart soared in triumph, and though he tried his best to disguise this for fear of scaring her away, his face appeared brighter than she had seen it for weeks. ‘Do you like the pictures?’ At her enthusiastic nod, he began to list the options. ‘There’s Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi at the Rialto – or maybe you prefer Greta Garbo?’
‘No, give me a good fright any day.’ She cocked her head knowingly. ‘I see you’ve already checked to see what’s on. I admire your confidence.’
‘I wasn’t confident at all, just hopeful.’
Her eyes were warm but stern. ‘Remember we’re just friends.’
‘Just friends.’ But his gut was taut with excitement.
‘The Rialto it is then.’
He grinned his delight at the venue so easily being agreed. Then, with a care as to who might see them, he added, ‘Shall I meet you outside? It’ll have to be second house ’cause I’m working away and I sometimes don’t get home while seven.’
‘That’ll be grand,’ smiled Boadicea.
And the deal was struck.
Niall could hardly believe this was happening – would refuse to believe it until she was standing there outside the cinema – and he bade himself not to become overexhilarated. Even so, there were plans to construct. For a start he would need more than his usual pocket money from Nora. Without wanting to explain what the extra amount was for, he took it from his wage packet on Friday before handing it over. The slightest hesitation as she opened it showed that she had noticed the packet had been tampered with, though to his relief she did not remark on it.
Then there was the question of his whereabouts. Having allotted Monday as his night out there would be no trouble getting away, but with two films and a newsreel to watch, he would be out much longer than usual. Whilst he laboured on the railway line, he was to mull over a list of excuses. But why not be truthful? At least half truthful? It wasn’t illegal for a man to go to the pictures on his own and that was what he would let them assume.
Having made that decision, his next concern was what to wear. It bothered him that he could not dress in suit and tie, and he fretted over this as he donned these for Mass on Sunday. But there was much more to bother him that morning, for this was no ordinary Sabbath. Only the most thick-skinned of men would have enquired what ailed the children, who sat all misty-eyed and forlorn in preparation of their trip to church. Where others would offer flowers and prayers of gladness on this, Mothering Sunday, Honor, Dom, Juggy, Batty and Brian would only be reminded of their still raw loss, and Niall’s heart went out to them, knowing how empty was this festival for those without a mother. His eyes pricked with tears when Juggy was the one to articulate her own despair and that of her siblings. ‘I wanted to make one for you, Gran,’ she murmured sadly, as she examined the cards on the sideboard that had been sent by Nora’s daughters, ‘but, ’teacher wouldn’t let me. She said we could only make one for our mothers …’
Everyone looked round as Honor rushed outside. Not knowing what to do, a concerned Niall glanced at Nora, but she shook her head as if to say leave the child be.
Whilst the boys hung their heads, Juggy turned her attention back to the cards. ‘I told her I didn’t have a mam any more – Mary Kelly put her hand up, an’ all – but ’teacher said it wasn’t called Grannying Sunday and those of us who didn’t have a mam could do jobs instead, so I had to bash the chalk out of the blackboard duster.’
‘Stupid bloody woman,’ muttered a tearful Harriet to her mother, as she turned away to put on her hat.
Niall was angry too, but his voice was soft as he bent over to address his little daughter. ‘If you want to make your mam a card,’ he said firmly, ‘then you can. And this afternoon we’ll go on Low Moor and pick her some flowers and lay them where your mam’s put to rest.’
‘Will we see her when she’s had her rest?’ came the hopeful query from Brian.
‘No, son, you won’t.’ Niall shook his head and, straightening, he chucked his youngest with sad affection before turning away.
‘Away now,’ said Nora in a gruff voice that betrayed deep emotion. ‘Let’s get to Mass.’
Whilst the women put last-minute touches to the youngsters’ appearance, Niall wandered outside to where Honor lingered miserably by the front window. A dejected figure in her grammar school uniform and beret, she remained with eyes downcast, so as not to see her friends with their bunches of flowers.
‘It’ll get better,’ he murmured, trying to convey in his manly way that he understood how it felt to lose one’s mother. ‘I know you won’t think so at the moment, but it will. And when it does, you’ll feel guilty for laughing or whatever …’ The face beneath the school beret looked up at him then, giving away a hint that Honor had already experienced this sensation. ‘But you shouldn’t,’ he added quickly, ‘because your mam wants you to be happy. Still … it’s only fitting that you’ll feel sad today.’ He placed a helpful hand to steer her. ‘Come on, you and me’ll set off and let t’others follow.’
As they walked, Honor was quiet for a while, before blurting, ‘I feel guilty about something else, Dad.’
Niall looked down at her, his face kind and quizzical.
‘I can’t tell you what it is. It’s too awful.’ She was obviously racked with conscience. ‘I can’t even tell Father Finnegan at confession, but if I don’t …’ Her face told what would befall her.
Niall was becoming worried, but had to coax this out of her with a gentle squeeze of her shoulder. ‘I can’t think you’ve done anything so bad—’
‘I wished it were Gran who died instead of Mother!’ She hardly dared
